Clay County

One town that I will always remember from my journeys throughout the Commonwealth is the lovely metropolitan Manchester, Kentucky. I was honored to be the project manager on the new Judicial Center to be built in Clay County. I'd like to believe I was given that honor because I was the most diplomatic, but in all actuality it was because I fit in with the good old country boys more than any other big-city, big-feeling boys from our office in Frankfort. My boss "Jerry Garcia" and I spent numerous late nights in Clay County, enough that my wife thought I had to be having an affair because nobody works for the State at 11:00pm. On the contrary, we always met after the meeting to discuss whether we won or lost at Pattie's Place, a local meat and three famous for their prime rib. Win or lose, our cholesterol was going up one way or the other. We got into some difficult situations there because there was so much arguing over site issues that we ended up tearing down their existing courthouse to build our new judicial center on that site. Jerry Garcia and I are both historically minded individuals, and our office is definitely not in the business of demolishing historic structures. But what the public didn't understand was the long nights we spent in Manchester trying to persuade the board members to make the right decisions. The public meetings got very heated and picket lines were even the norm during our tenure. One day an anonymous threat came to our office that if anyone from the state showed up in Clay County that evening that there would be "blood-lettin". Webster's doesn't have the definition of "blood-lettin" but I think it's Clay Countian for killing, ass-whipping, and the like. My friend BuffaloSprings probably knows the definition. To this day I haven't ever heard the term "blood-lettin" used again, but I am waiting for my own chance to threaten someone with it. Our office has court security personnel that are former state police, etc. and offered to send them to escort me. I told them that the Manchester boys would perceive that as fear, so I offered to pack my own heat and protect myself. While wrapping up the after-party that evening at Pattie's, Jerry was sitting with his back to a swinging door that led to a back room at Pattie's. Every time that the door would swing open quickly, Garcia would jump in his seat. The 300 pound waitress noticed Jerry's nervousness and quizzed him at why he was so jumpy. He told her that he was a pretty big target and that he was worried about getting shot. She came back with the best reply I have ever heard "I've seen um miss biggerns than you". I am still waiting to use this line also.